Tomato Jealousy
by Sasora5
Summary: South Italy gets very jealous of Antonio's tomatoes, so he decides to retreat to a more....snowy climate. SpainxS.Italy & RussiaxS.Italy
1. Jealousy

**Tomato Jealously**

"One tomato, two tomato, three tomato, four, five tomato, six tomato, let's pick some more!!!"

Romano sighed, what happened to Antonio? Spain had started acting funny last week; and it wasn't the _funny ha-ha_ either. But of course- who didn't know about the older's zeal for the red vegetable? Except, it's grown more intense over the past couple of days and it was getting on S. Italy's very last nerve.

Romano disdainfully looked on as he shifted the parasol onto his other shoulder. Spain was having so much fun out there in the tomato field and he was just so very _jealous._ How come the tomatoes were getting more attention than him? It wasn't fair…

"S-Spain," Romano shyly said, walking up one of the rows, "aren't you tired? Y-you could take a nap or something with me, it's nearing 3 'o clock- "Nonsense, I can spend the whole day out here picking these babies!!" Antonio interjected, running farther down the row.

S. Italy shook his head and trudged back inside the house. But, through all of that disappointment, Romano couldn't see through Spain's happy façade and glance at his depressed face.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Romano let out a brief yawn before slipping out of bed and finding a pair of boxers to put on. He silently walked out of the room and to the stairs, where he heard the sound of rushing water, the clinking of dishes, and Antonio's calm voice. It sounded like…he was talking to somebody. Was somebody invited without his consult? He tiptoed down a couple of steps before crouching down to take a little peek into the kitchen.

"I'm not good at this whole 'love' thing…I mean; I don't even know how to approach _him_!" Spain quickly said, scrubbing a dish extra hard. Italy bit his lower lip as he listened to Spain speak. _'That's it… he likes somebody! But if he does like somebody, will he have time for me anymore?'_ Romano wiped his eyes before the tears could fall and stood up. He stomped down the rest of the stairs and walked to the front door.

"Romano, what's wrong?" Antonio asked, walking into the living room. Italy looked at him with narrowed eyes; Spain was cradling a phone, with the receiver facing his chest. "I'm going out." He turned towards the door. "Where are you going?" Antonio asked, taking a step forward. "Did you hear me? I'm going _out._" And with that, Romano left and slammed the door.

Spain stood there for about a minute more before turning back around and going to the kitchen once more. He put the phone to his ear and talked, "You see? H-he probably doesn't even feel the same way…"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Romano ran as fast as he could from the sunny nation. It was too much; to just bare with the fact that your love loves _somebody else._ He ran for quite a long time, too. In fact, he ran so long that he felt the temperature drop. I'm talking about _collapse_ on the floor drop. He stopped running to take in the scenery. White; pure white snow, blankets and blankets of it, and even more blankets slowly falling down. How in the world did he not notice this when he stepped on the substance?

Whatever, what mattered was exactly who's territory was he on. China, Korea, or Japan? …Nah, they're sunny. Could it be…? Romano let out a nervous laugh. It couldn't be Ivan's land, right? _**Right?!**_ He turned around to be met with more white land and gray skies. It was awfully cold right now….maybe he should go find somewhere to rest, but where?

He began to run again, looking around for light that signaled a house was near. It was getting dark already; when he left it wasn't even that dark out. Italy stumbled on a solidified piece of ice and fell into the snow with a loud 'crunch'. "…..S-Spain…" He whispered, breathing hard. He was shivering from cold, and crying; he couldn't possibly come out of this alive. He was going to die there without telling the person of his dreams how much he loved them.

Romano scowled and shook his head. He began to think about his little brother. Of course he was going to miss him, they always made pasta together….he remembered the play dates they had when they were little; Austria and Spain would chat while watching them. He smiled, the way Antonio said they were cute when their curls made a heart one day. And he had to admit, he was going to miss Germany too. He got him and Venechiano out of more binds than one, especially when they got themselves stuck by the curl.

Romano let out a shaky sigh and his breathing began to decrease. He let out one final tear as he smiled a bit more. He slowly closed his eyes- he'd be damned if he didn't die happy.

A/N: This is so fucking short, you guys; a billion worth's apologies to you all.

A/N2: Heeeeeeeyyyy you guuuyyyssss!! How're you all doing? This be the first chapter of the story, I'll be uploading the next one in seconds (I think?)

-Le gasp- I wonder what'll happen to Romano? Oh, no wait, no I don't, since I'm the one writing the story. Ha-ha.

The next chapter will have some kinda-sorta Liet abuse, so get ready for that!!


	2. Snow Tomato

**Chapter**** 2:**

_Snow____Tomato_

"Подставляй-ка губки алые, Ближе к молодцу садись….? Да? Он просыпаются, он проснуться!! Литва, приходите посмотри!" [ *sings a song* Oh? He's awake, he's awake!! Lithuania come see!] "I'm coming Russia, right away!"

'_Russia? Oh no…is he dead too? I'm going to be stuck with this guy forever!'_ Romano moaned, covering his head with his arm. '_These robes are so soft…I must be in heaven, then.'_

Russia sat on a chair besides the bed and switched his gaze from Italy to Liet. Lithuania looked back at him, before shrugging. Russia looked back at Romano who, at the moment, seemed dead. That is, until he shot up in the bed screaming the word 'lies' like a lunatic.

"He _is_ awake! You see?" Russia exclaimed childishly pointing at the now panting Romano; he seemed to ignore the fact that the male was just screaming his lungs out. Lithuania went to Romano's side. "A-are you all right?" He asked.

"_No_ I'm not alright!! I'm _dead_ and this guy's in heaven with me!!! How the hell is that possible?!?! This has to be some twisted lie!!" Romano responded, pointing wildly at Russia. Lithuania gasped before taking a step back, "D-don't say such things!" Russia looked at Toris, frowning, "What's wrong with him saying that, hm? Isn't this heaven to you too?" He asked him, putting on a deranged smile.

Lithuania gulped then nodded; Romano shut up afterwards and stared frighteningly. "N-no, it's not that, it's just-"What? So you're saying this home--- **your** home is _not_ heaven? Why must you be so mean to me after everything I've done for you?" Russia asked, standing up now. He walked over to Lithuania slowly, taking his time for added effect. Romano shifted nervously in the bed as he on looked and Lithuania backed up until he hit the wall.

"Russia, please, let me explain!! I didn't mean-"Explain what, Toris? You've said enough to me and you need punishment! My favorite shouldn't be saying such mean things to me, you know…" Russia said the last sentence in a laughing sing-song voice; S. Italy could've sworn he went crazy that instant. Russia was in front of the trembling Lithuania now, his hand clenching and unclenching. He angled his arm back from the elbow and was about to punch Liet when someone knocked on the door.

Lithuania remained silent and stared at the upheld fist with large eyes. Romano let out a sigh that he didn't know he was holding and he regretted it seconds later. Russia whipped his head around to stare at the Italian; his pupils had gotten so small they looked like nothing more than purple dots. Romano looked away hurriedly; a couple of knocks were heard from the door again.

"Who is it?" Russia asked darkly. "I-it's Latvia! Y-you have a package from Mr. A-America!!" At this Russia let Lithuania go and his voice changed back to the bittersweet childish one. He opened the door and there was Raivis, who stood shaking with a box under his left arm. "Latvia! How nice of you to bring it here," Ivan's voice turned bitterer now, "unlike other people, who're _so_ ungrateful…" Raivis looked at Toris once Russia said that.

Romano turned around in bed so his back was facing them and closed his eyes, desperately craving more sleep. Russia saw this, and smiled. "Let's go somewhere else so our guest can have sleep, shall we?"

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

_Little Romano slept in bed while Spain watched. Then, Spain tugged the quilt off of the little one's body._

'_Romano, wake up…..wake up, silly!' The little nation said nothing as he wiggled around in the bed, searching for warmth; Spain giggled a bit at this. 'Romano, stop being such a sleepy head, siesta time is over!' 'Mmm, Spaaaaiin I'm so tired… how about 5 more minutes?' 'Oh, okay, you win!' _

_Spain pulled the quilt over the Italian's shoulders and smiled. 'Italy…do you know how much I love you?' It took a while before the little one's sense could kick in so he could reply, 'Of course I do, bastard. You love me lots.' 'More than anything in the world, I'll always put you first no matter what. Remember that for the both of us, okay?' Spain kissed the child atop his head before leaving the room._

Romano opened his eyes to blinding white sunlight. He narrowed his eyes and groaned, snow always made things seem brighter for some reason. He looked around the room; Russia was nowhere to be found, fortunately. Italy got out of bed and walked around, opening each door until he found the bathroom.

Romano walked inside and inwardly groaned _'What, no clothes waiting for me?'_ He walked over to the tub and turned on the hot water. "Guess I'll be stepping out of the room naked then," He said to no one in particular as he tested the water. It was warm enough, so he quickly pulled up the shower switch and stripped himself of his clothes. He stepped inside the tub and was hit with the lukewarm water. Italy sighed, tilting his head back as he washed himself.

`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`.`

Italy walked out of the bathroom refreshed, dried-off, and completely naked. He also regretted this when he saw Russia sitting on his bed polishing some sort of plumbing pipe. Russia looked up and smiled. "WH-what the hell are you doing in here?!?" "Что ты говоришь? [What are you talking about?] I live here, of course." Romano sighed before walking back into the bathroom. Russia looked at the door in confusion before watching it open. Italy now had a towel loosely hugging his hips, along with an irritated look.

"What do you want?" He asked. "You know," Russia started, completely avoiding he question, "We first saw you lying down in the snow a week ago. You slept for three days before waking up, and then you went back to sleep again in less than an hour. Four days have passed, you know! Are you really that lazy?" Romano was taken aback; taking only the last sentence in check, but quickly regained his composure. "I am _not_ lazy thank you very much!! I thought I was dead, and if you had common sense you'd- "Now now, guests shouldn't be so _feisty;_ you're trying to provoke me, aren't you?" Russia said. He had a bad habit of cutting people off like that.

"What're you talking about? I'm not provoking you!" Romano nervously said. Russia stood up and walked towards the door. "Of course you are," **'click'** "just look at you…why are you doing such a thing?"

…Did he just lock the door? Italy stared at the door panic stricken, trying to think of a retort. Nothing came. "Hey, did you know," Russia took a step towards Italy, "that guests _always_ give me what I want?" Ivan's voice was turning dark again, and his smile grew more twisted.

"What do you want from me?!" Romano asked, trying to keep himself from shaking. "Isn't it obvious?" Russia asked, leaning down to face Romano. "I want to see how you taste, and I'll definitely need you to do so." He nuzzled his face into the crook of Romano's neck.

Romano stood there for a good second before dashing off to the other side of the room, falling into a heap on the ground. He was shocked; holding his hand up to where Russia had just recently touched him. "No…" He silently whispered. Russia's smile grew even bigger now, as he kneeled down next to Romano and made quick work of pinning him down. "No…no…NO!!! Somebody help me, please!!!" Romano began to helplessly scream, giving Ivan his just desserts.

"Tsk, tsk, we're going to have to do something about my little 'snow tomato's' fidgeting now aren't we?"

South looked at him in horror as he smiled gleefully. _'Snow Tomato'? Since when…?'_ His thoughts were interrupted when Russia picked him up and brought him over to the bed. He threw the male roughly onto the sheets and straddled his hips harshly. Romano let out a low moan at the rough touch of hips, and Russia took this as an invitation to get even more rowdy. He grabbed a large tuft of the brunette's hair and pulled his head forward so that he could kiss the other. Russia bit hard on Italy's bottom lip, seeking entry. When the other didn't respond, Russia made quick work of tugging the other's hair with a tighter grip. Romano gasped at the sudden pain and Ivan shoved his tongue into his mouth. It was getting harder and harder for the Italian to think, as he felt waves of immeasurable pain hit his body.

Soon, though, they had to part for air and Italy really needed it. After catching his breath, Romano ghosted his hands over his mouth in disbelief; _'Did he just do that?'_ He let a tear escape his eyes as Russia released the vice grip on his head. "You see, that wasn't so hard, da?" Russia asked, wiping the tear from the other's face. Italy turned his head to the side, not wanting to meet eyes with the sociopath that sit on top of him. "You taste just like those sweet tomatoes Spain gave me the other day~" Romano gasped at the sudden mentioning of Spain's name. "S-Spain…" He felt his face grow hot and his bottom lip quiver as a sudden eruption of tears flowed down his cheeks. Would he ever see him again?

Judging by the way Russia was taking a liking to him, not in a few days.

"Now," Russia said, trailing a finger down Romano's torso, "I want to see how you are inside your _other_ parts." Romano shuddered at the thought, and closed his eyes. Russia licked his lips as he lowered his head onto Romano's bare chest, licking, nipping, and kissing a trail down until he reached the hem of the towel, where he abruptly stopped. Romano let out a shaky sigh, as he opened his eyes to see just what the larger nation stopped for. He seemed to be fishing inside his coat for something….Romano closed his eyes again, feeling a trickle of his tears reach his ears as he sniffled. Why did it have to be him?

He heard a loud noise and hastily opened his eyes; Russia had just unsheathed a dagger. He stared bug-eyed at the weapon, feeling a lump form in his throat. Ivan brought the blade down to S. Italy's hips before slipping the blade under the towel's loosely tied knot and bringing it upward, slicing the knot in half and freeing the Italian's hips of any protection whatsoever.

Romano whimpered at the small loss of warmth and squirmed around a bit, trying to find a new source of heat that didn't involve Russia's body. Russia looked down at his prey's new exposed flesh and licked his lips again; he wasn't going to last long if his little Snow Tomato kept on doing those things. He lowered his head once more and kissed the skin just below Romano's naval, eliciting a moan from the male.

"Hmm, you are enjoying this, da?" Russia asked Italy, seeing the man's flushed cheeks. He said nothing in return, though, angering the Russian. Ivan took the other's hardened member and pinched the head rather hard. "OH GOD!! Make it stop, please make it stop!!!" Romano screamed out as he clutched the sheets. Russia smiled maniacally as he pinched the head even harder. More tears streamed down the other's face; he'd rather be murdered than put up to this embarrassing task. "Hey, Snow Tomato, didn't you hear me? I know you're enjoying this, tell me you're enjoying this!!" Russia said to South as he continued squeezing the head.

It took every bit of self-restraint Romano had to utter those four words without breaking down. _"Yes, I'm enjoying this."_ He muttered, feeling a pang in his heart. Russia let go of the head and began to nuzzle the shaft delicately, humming an Old Russian tune. He brought the knife up to Romano's cheeks and swept downwards, causing the Italian to bleed. "Such a good little tomato…"

Romano said nothing as the Russian continued to make advances on his neglected body. Oh, how he wished to _murder_ himself at the moment. It wasn't worth it……that jealousy...Spain...

Simply put, Romano now hated his life.

SHORT CHAPTER IS SHORT. Sorry about that…..

A/N: The song that Russia was singing was, wait for it, *drum roll* …Korobushka, aka the TETRIS song.  I just had to do it…….and I love myself for it.

You know…it's like whenever I'm finished typing up a chapter of a story, I feel like _deleting_ it for some reason. I don't know why….I'm stuck between thrills and embarrassment. If it's thrills….then I think there may be something wrong with me….8D


	3. My Fair Tomato

**Chapter 3:**

_My Fair Tomato_

"A week, France; it's been _one week_ since he ran out…I checked his house and all of the obvious places he'd go…but he wasn't in any of them!!" The brunette said, his chest rising and falling rapidly as his breathing increased.

The blonde beside him swished the wine around in its glass as he listened on with saddened eyes. "….What if something terrible happened to him, France? I'd never forgive myself!!" "Did you check with his brother, ma Cherie?" France asked. "I've heard from Austria that he went on a trip to Russia with Germany…he won't be back until the festival at Japan's starts…" "Which is next week, no?" "Mmhmm…. But that'll be too much time to wait!!"

France took a quick sip from his glass before straightening himself up on the sofa. "We will go door to door, then. Ask them…..he couldn't have gone very far, could he?" He said. Spain nodded, trying to regain his normal breathing speed.

* * *

Romano lay on the bed, naked, hidden beneath the soft quilt that had been given to him after Russia was done 'enjoying' himself. He was shivering, but not because it was cold….no, it was very warm; in fact he was shivering because of what he'd been through. He felt awkwardly dead and lifeless; not wanting to move one inch. Everything hurt so badly…..his body was littered with bruises, many dark spots resided over his ribcage, and tufts of the Italian's hair stuck out wildly in places where the abusive Russian had pulled and tugged at. His lip wasn't bleeding anymore, but he could still taste the dried blood on his lips.

S. Italy shifted once uncomfortably- twice- three times---he shot up in bed, back arching as he threw his head back, screaming. His hands gripped at the sheets, knuckles turning white—what exactly was happening to him?

He heard a dark chuckle. He tried to open his blurred eyes, searching for the source of the noise. He saw a large figure…._'Oh no…'_ He thought….it couldn't be Russia, right? H-He couldn't be back….._right?_ Romano shivered at the thought, tightly closing his eyes before reopening them once more. It did nothing to help with his vision—in fact, he could've sworn the figure got close….was it…..hunching over? ". . . . . . " Romano took a shaky breath. He felt way too….._hot_ inside. It felt as if his groin were on fire; cheeks flushed a light rosy color, blurred eyes narrowed, and mouth opened just a bit as he lightly panted.

"Ah it finally took effect, da?" The childish voice asked, giggling. It was him—Russia was back for a round two. "Wh-what did you do to me!?" The Italian tried to yell, instead coming out as a moan of sorts. Ivan giggled again, sitting down on the bed as he watched the other twist and writhe. He pulled the covers away from Romano, revealing his aroused member as it stood in alert. "Oh . . . you're getting so ripe!!" Russia mused, fiddling the head with a gloved finger. Italy moaned, legs trying to close in embarrassment and to stop the other from advancing a second time.

But _everybody_ knew how futile stopping Russia was, right?

Minutes had passed, and Romano found himself being straddled by the Russian who had nothing on besides his boxers, and that annoying scarf.

That damned idiot had the scarf grafted onto his neck, Italy swore.

Russia had grabbed a tuft of Italy's hair and pulled it back to give himself free access of his neck as he kissed it and nipped it lightly—his way of toying with the other, for he could _certainly_ do much worse than so. Lovino arched his back, legs clamped tightly together, as tears flowed down his red cheeks once more. He was moaning—he enjoyed it. _'Wh-what am I . . . some dirty slut?!'_ He thought to himself, trying to suppress the noises that he kept on emitting.

Russia abruptly stopped. _**Knock knock.**_ Somebody was looking for something. Like a rabbit, searching for the haunting hawk, Ivan lifted his head—but his expression was nowhere near the expression of an innocent rabbit, no; eyes narrowed to nothing but the thinnest paper strips, lips pulled into a large frown of disgust. He looked awfully . . . scary, in the Italian's opinion.

". . ." The Russian said nothing, as he stared angrily at the door. _** Knock knock knock.**_ The unknown character knocked again. Surely it couldn't be any of the three Baltic countries, right? (And surely it would not be; they knew better than to mess with Ivan when the Russian was enjoying himself.)

"Mr. Russia; Mr. Russia are you in there~?" A cheerful voice asked, as a hand knocked once more. Ivan smiled. Why did that voice sound so familiar? It was then he noticed. Romano choked ". . . .Venezi . . . . Ano . ." His voice trailed off. More tears. He was crying again; a bad habit he gained from staying at the yandere's house he bet. Russia turned his head back towards the naked Italian, smiling with a fake, mocking sweetness before getting off of the bed, quickly putting his trench coat-like outfit back on, and walking over to the door. He twisted the knob and opened it, although slightly, just to show a couple slivers of his tall frame—even though he was quite large, and there was no way in hell Italy could see Romano from his position outside the room anyways.

"Ah, comrade, what brings you here?" Russia asked; the smile plastered to his face growing wider. Veneziano smiled, rocking back on the heels of his feet, hands behind his back. "Germany sent me here to talk about the treaties with you, although I don't actually know how to talk about these kinds of things!" North Italy cheerily blurted out, the odd curl at the side of his head bouncing casually with the owner's movements. Russia blinked, thinking a bit. A gloved index finger reaches to fiddle his bottom lip, as he clicked his tongue in thought. _'There had to be some way to get this idiot away. . .'_ Russia parted his lips to speak after the awkward silence, Veneziano smiling curiously up to listen to what the larger nation had to say. Just the slightest bit of air left Russia's mouth, when a painstakingly loud scream ringed the two nation's eardrums.

It was Romano, and he had screamed Veneziano's name.

The called for nation tensed up, and froze, eyes going wide as he stopped his rocking movements. Russia stayed calm, thinking Italy was too much of an idiot to actually pay close attention to who's voice that was. ". . . . .Mr. Russia. . ." The brunette started, ears picking up the sounds of somebody bawling. "Wh-who was that…? And…..how do they know m-my name?" The small nation's pupils seemed to have grown smaller, shaking all around the sclera. Ivan tensed up, as the hand that clutched the doorknob squeezed it with unbelievable force, causing the polished brass to dent and groan slightly.

"Comrade….are you sure you aren't hallucinating?" The smile grew bit faint, as the corners of the snowy nation's lips twitched.

Italy took a step forward, but already being close to Russia, ended up bumping into the taller nation's chest. He looked up at Ivan, lovely chocolate eyes showing a mixture of emotions as he parted his lips to speak: "S-somebody's crying….somebody's _crying_ and they're calling for me-"I think you should get some **rest**, comrade." Russia cut him off, dark voice echoing down the stretching halls. With that, Italy backed up slightly.

Just enough room.

Russia slammed the door on the other nation, leaving him outside. He turned around to glare poison-tipped daggers at Romano, whose eyes were closed; body curled up as tightly as possible as he lay on his side. Ivan stride toward the bed, hand lashing out and immediately grabbing onto something thin-very thin, long, and indeed, curly.

Romano's curl.

Said Italian screamed loudly in pain, hands quickly moving to grab and scratch at Russia's offending hand as the bigger continued his assault. _"You couldn't just be __**good, **__couldn't you?!"_ Russia hissed, pulling even harder at the curl as Romano screamed even more. "Stop it, stop it!!" South Italy screamed, although it could barely be heard—his voice had long since been hoarse, and it hurt to even whisper.

On the other side, Italy had stood in front of the taunting door a few minutes more; taking deep breathes, and rocking on his heels, he was trying his best to keep his cool. But it was hard, considering exactly what the hell just happened.

Somebody screamed for him. They called his name, and they were crying. And the worse thing was the fact that he would never know who it was.

Within a heartbeat, Veneziano had swiveled on his heel, and was now heading to find Germany; wherever the wurst-loving nation was within these Russian walls.

* * *

And so, the search begins.

Antonio raised his hand, knocking on the door with a tanned fist.

He waited for a moment or two, before the silverette opened the door. Red eyes met with emerald, questionably.

A/N: TH-THIS CAN BE EXPLAINED YOU GUYS. THIS CAN REALLY, REALLY BE EXPLAINED. PL-PLEASE DON'T KILL ME.

A/N2: Okay so the thing IS: About a month or two back I broke my laptop; had to get it fixed and I don't actually save my documents on my USB, so ch'yeah. THEN WHEN IT CAME BACK, I had lots and lots of tests to study for/work to make up cause I'm a faggot student. And THEN I DECIDED TO MAKE A TIMELINE FOR THE STORY, SO I WOULDN'T SLACK AND BE ABLE TO TYPE THE CHAPTERS QUICKER. Which is quite ironic because, if I hadn't typed the timeline, this chapter, and maaaaybe another one, might've already been uploaded |D;;

. . . . . I am so sorry I'm such a faggot, you guys ; A ;

I'll make it up to all of my readers, I swear~! SEE, I'VE ALREADY STARTED TYPING CHAPTERS FOUR AND FIVE HNNNGH. So, I hope you're ready for France seducing Ukraine on a couch c:

. . . . . .P.S.: Words cannot describe how happy I get when I see that the readers have favorite my story, and even reviewed it ;u; 3 So, I'm asking to please give some feedback—I'm actually thinking about putting some of the commenter's ideas into the story. It would be nice, ne?


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